Deck the Halls
by imsuchanut
Summary: "If Ward thinks he's gonna get away with this morning session," she muttered to herself, "he's got another thing coming." She stifled a yawn and pulled back the door, fully expecting to give her SO a piece of her mind, only to barely miss the head of a hammer. "What the hell?" Twenty five Christmas ficlets about the team.
1. Chapter 1: Deck the Halls

**Hey! Thanks to those who sent in the Christmas prompts. Please keep em coming! I need em.**

**So, this is my version of an advent calendar! If you don't know what that is, well, basically I'll be posting a baby ficlet every day until Christmas. Hope you all enjoy!**

Skye woke up to a tapping noise outside her door. She rolled over to get a look at the alarm clock. A bright red five greeted her, making her rub her eyes. Slowly, she pushed herself off the bed and made her way to the door. "If Ward thinks he's gonna get away with this morning session," she muttered to herself, "he's got another thing coming." She stifled a yawn and pulled back the door, fully expecting to give her SO a piece of her mind, only to barely miss the head of a hammer. "What the _hell_?"

She rubbed her eyes and saw a sheepish-looking pair of scientists staring back at her. "Fitz, I told you to be quieter with that thing!"

"You try doing this! It's not exactly easy to be silent, you know."

"I offered! But no, you told me you had this. And now look what's happened!"

"You can't honestly—"

"Guys!" Skye held up her hands. It was _far_ too early to deal with their enthusiasm. "What the hell were you two doing?"

The pair exchanged looks. "Well, it's December first," Simmons answered slowly.

"Yeah, barely. Still doesn't explain why you tried to whack me with a hammer at five in the morning."

"Don't you have any Christmas spirit?" Skye gave Fitz a look. "We were decorating. See?" The man held up a hammer and nails, and Simmons held up a wreath.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered. "Is this your idea of a prank?"

Simmons frowned. "I don't see how this would be a prank. I mean, we've done everywhere else already. Your room was last."

"What do you mean, everywhere else?"

Fitz gave her a small grin and put down the hammer. "Why don't you come out here and take a look?"

She paused and grabbed a sweater off her chair, haphazardly pulling it over her head as she left the room. Simmons flicked on the lights, and not for the first time since she had stepped foot on the Bus, Skye's jaw dropped.

It looked like Christmas had exploded.

Garlands were hung all over the walls, wreaths nailed on every door, and snowflakes dangled from the ceiling. Not to mention the tinsel. Everywhere.

She felt something tickle the bottom of her foot, and couldn't help the smile that escaped. "Is this fake snow?"

"Yeah. Designed it myself, actually. It can be molded into snowballs, and it looks just like the real thing, but it's less, you know, cold." The engineer looked rather smug, and Skye thought she saw him sneak a glance at Simmons as he said that. But the woman was busy adjusting a piece of tinsel on the back of a chair.

"You did this all in one night?" muttered a gravelly voice. She turned around to see a bleary-eyed Grant walking in, surveying the scene.

"Yep! It took a lot of hot chocolate. But we think it turned out pretty well!" Answered a distant British voice. "But you know what the best part is?"

Both scientists popped back in with wicked grins on their faces. "Mistletoe!"

**Please review! That's mean a lot to me, and encourage me to continue these. Or, give me a prompt!**

**Thanks!**

**Em**

**PS: Chill with me on the tumblr, yo!**


	2. Chapter 2: Ho, Ho, Mistletoe

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Y'all are great! This one was prompted by anonymous on tumblr. Don't worry, this theme in particular shall be continued!**

"Mistletoe?" he asked with one eyebrow raised. "Don't you think we're a little old for that?"

"Sorry, I didn't realize Christmas spirit had an age limit. You know, it's people like you who get on Santa's naughty list." Fitz was scowling back at Ward, and Simmons carried a rather hurt expression.

"And I'm so upset about that. But really, there's six people on this plane. Nobody needs to deal with that crap."

Fitz rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Don't be such a sourpants, Ward. It's a _tradition_." The emphasis made his accent stronger, and Ward resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, well, traditions are made to be broken. Take the decorations down. They're fire hazards." Ignoring the "heys' from Fitzsimmons, he turned around, only to find Skye standing with her hands up.

"Nuh-uh. Do not take one step closer, big guy."

He kept walking, but paused at the cringe she gave him, only an inch away. "Look, I'm not going to discuss this. The decorations are—"

"This isn't about the decorations! Which, by the way, aren't leaving. Look up, idiot." Ward did as she asked, and didn't bother to hide the following eye roll. Seriously? Nobody could've warned him about this?

"Fitzsimmons. Take down the mistletoe. Now."

"Sorry, Ward!" Fitz' voice sounded distant, like he was in the kitchen.

"Not going to happen!" continued Simmons, with the sound of a bag opening. Seconds later, the pair ran back in with a bowl of pretzels. "Alright. Continue."

"I'm not going to kiss her. This is stupid, and immature."

Skye faked a pout. "Why won't you kiss me? What, am I not good enough for you?" Ward rubbed his temples. It was _far_ too early to play these mind games. He wanted sleep. Not to placate two hyperactive scientists.

"It's not—"

"Or are you just scared?"

"I'm not scared, Skye. I've diffused bombs, dealt with terrorists, and gone in the field without any protection. I'm not scared of kissing _you_." His monotonous tone had gone almost disgusted with the last word, resulting in hurt flashing across Skye's eyes. Ward sighed. "Look, that's not—"

"I know what you meant. Don't worry, I was just kidding. I'm not going to make you do it."

"Skye—"

"I'm going to leave before this gets any more awkward."

"Wait—"

The room fell silent after she left, highlighting the noise of Fitzsimmons crunching on pretzels. Ward turned around and glared at the pair of scientists. "Can you guys stop that?" They froze mid-chew, pretzels dangling out of Fitz's mouth.

Ward turned and ran after her. "Skye, wait!" He managed to catch the edge of her sweater sleeve before she went back in her room.

"You didn't have to run after me like some sickening Hallmark movie," she said with a small smile.

"I know. I just…didn't mean for it to come out that way. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. Good night, well, good early morning I guess."

He quirked his lips, in what almost looked like a small smile. "Yeah. You too." Despite his opinion on mistletoe, he still felt bad. He had been hard on Skye lately, and early morning wasn't exactly a good excuse for being so grouchy with her. He rolled back his shoulders, resigning himself for his following actions.

Skye meanwhile was turning for her room, but was stopped by his hold on her sweater.

"Ward, I—" He cut her off mid-sentence, bending down and pressing a soft kiss on her cheek. It was light, and he quickly straightened himself back up. His expression was the usual: neutral. But Skye thought she could see a tinge of red in his cheeks.

"See you in a couple hours. It's going to be a hard practice." He walked away without another word. Skye couldn't help the smile that escaped, and reached up and rubbed her cheek with her sweater.

"Looks like the big bad wolf is finally softening up," she muttered to herself. She went back to bed, oblivious to the matching grins at the end of the hall.

"Simmons," Fitz said with a smirk, "I think mistletoe is going to be very fun."

**Thanks for reading! If you'd like to review or leave a prompt (either here or on tumblr, either's good), that'd be amazing.**

**Thanks!**

**Em**


	3. Chapter 3: Snickerdoodles

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Y'all are fantabulous. This was prompted by Bonnie Radcliff. A couple people mentioned seeing this on tumblr, and yes, this is being posted there too. Hope you enjoy!**

"Right then, we'll need flour. I think." Simmons squinted at the faded piece of paper from her place at the counter. Fitz was in the cupboard, ready to grab any and all baking necessities.

"What do you mean, you think?" His voice was muffled from his place in the cupboard, but she could still easily pick up on his tone.

"The recipe is all smudged! I can barely read it!" The man popped his head around the door and gave her a look.

"Well then, why did you choose _that_ recipe in particular? You know, there's this magical invention called the internet," he did 'jazz hands' at the mention of magic, and if he wasn't being so sarcastic she probably would've giggled. "and it can pretty much give you any recipe you want. Wondrous thing, it is." Jemma gave him a well-deserved eye roll.

"It's my grandmother's, and she always made the best Christmas cookies." Her voice came out a bit harsh, causing Fitz to take a step back. "Just because we're not at home doesn't mean we can't still have a normal Christmas."

Fitz put his hands up. "Alright, alright. I didn't say you couldn't. Just that a different recipe might be easier to read. But if you want to do this one, then by all means, go right ahead."

She gave him a small smile, and picked back up the piece of paper. "I'm pretty sure this says flour," she muttered, biting her lip.

"It's a cookie, Jem. Of course it needs flour!"

"I'm a biochemist, not a baker!"

He turned around to face her and raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"Baking _is_ biochem. You get the stuff from plants, mix it together, put it in the oven, then _bam_! Instant chemical reaction."

Jemma stared at him for a moment before cracking a small smile. "You're insane."

He crossed his arms across his chest and gave her a smirk."I prefer to call it 'being right'. Now what're the rest of the ingredients?"

"We'll need vanilla, eggs, sugar…."

"Yeah, go on."

"Fitz, can you come here? I can't read this." With this kitchen space limited as it was, and baking tools and cords already scattered around, he didn't have much choice of where to go. So he ended up reading over her shoulder, hands on either side of her on the counter. She could feel his breath against her neck, and he swore that if they were an inch closer they'd be touching.

"I think it says cinnamon."

Her heart was racing a bit faster and it was making her very uncomfortable. She'd have to run some tests later, there was no reason for her to feel this way. It was just Fitz, and they were just baking, after all.

Still, there were butterflies in her stomach and she did not like it. Distance, she thought. Distance will fix it.

"Cinnamon? Right then, can you fetch it?" It was an effort the clear the air, and thankfully, it worked. They went back to attempting to bake, methodically and as harmoniously as they did in the lab. Except with a bit more of a mess.

One destroyed kitchen later, the cookies were cooling. The pair were seated on the wall, backs against the floor. Simmons' head rested on Fitz's shoulder, and his head on hers, almost as if they were sleeping.

The picturesque scene was ruined by one loud brunette barging in the kitchen. "You made cookies? Thank god. I'm starving. Captain Bossy Pants was extra grumpy this morning. I don't think he understands human limits."

"I heard that!" yelled the man in question, walking in and picking up a cookie.

"Guys, these are really good," Skye managed in between bites, prompting a look from Grant. "Seriously! AC! May! You guys have _got_ to try these."

Within five minutes, they were all gone.

**If you liked it and feel like reviewing, that's be grand. Just saying.**

**Or you can hit me up with a prompt, either here or on tumblr!**

**Thanks!**

**Em**


	4. Chapter 4: We Wish You a Merry Christmas

**Back again! Well, of course I am. We've still got plenty left! This was prompted by Bonnie Radcliffe. Enjoy!**

"Please Ward?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"But Ward, it's a tradition!"

He rolled his eyes at them. They were pouting. Legitimately _pouting_. Like little puppies. They were adults, and the looks only made them look even more ridiculous. Five minutes ago, he didn't think that was possible, based on what they were wearing. Their stupid matching reindeer sweaters. Stupid elf hats. Stupid gold bells. It took a lot of willpower for him not to do something rash. The pair had been getting on his nerves with their stupid humming all damn day, and he was god damned _tired_ of it. There was no way in_ hell_ he was going caroling with them.

"I don't sing."

"Neither is Skye, and she's still going!"

Grant whipped around to stare down the girl in question. She gave him a sheepish smile and a small wave. She got his signature '_I'll deal with you later'_ look in return.

_Damn. There goes another one_. He always knew Skye couldn't be counted upon, but he didn't think she'd stoop _this_ low. He should've seen this coming. She was always a bit of a wild card, he never really knew what to expect from her. But caroling? Really? Grant shook his head in disappointment.

"That may be, but my choice is final. Besides, where would you even go? It's not like you could do it on the Bus."

The scientists fell silent for a moment. They appeared to be having some kind of silent conversation, because they turned back to him in unison with grins on their faces.

"New York!"

"New York."

"Won't it be wonderful! All the lights everywhere, and it's so full of Christmas spirit."

"Which we seem to be lacking on this plane," Fitz interjected with a pointed look towards him.

"That has to be one of the worst ideas of ever heard."

"Worst ide-? Did you hear him, Jem?"

"I can't believe—"

"Yeah, that was kind've harsh, Ward. You can see how excited they're—"

"Hey, don't make me the bad guy here. All I'm saying is—"

"You are so damn stubborn! Fitz and I have been trying—"

"You have no Christmas spirit!"

"Seriously Ward, it's like you're the Grinch."

Everyone was standing up now, with equal looks of agitation. Fitz and Simmons stood next to each other with their arms crossed, and Ward looked ready to rip off their elf hats. Skye meanwhile seemed to be egging on the fight, and if anyone bothered to look they would've seen her recording the argument.

Just when it looked like all hell was about to break loose, Coulson walked in holding a stack of black folders in one hand, and what looked like a hat in another. "Suit up. We've got a mission."

Fitzsimmons looked puzzled, but it was Jemma who spoke up first. "What, all of us?"

"We don't have suits," added Fitz.

Skye held up her hands and walked closer. "But I would _love_ my own supersuit. I could _totally_ go for Black Widow's look. You know, all that black leather? Or you could get me one of Stark's suits; that would be cool too."

"Unfortunately, actually, rather fortunately, none of you are getting supersuits. I meant coats. Grab them. Now."

"Coats? Where are we going?" Coulson gave him a smile, and Ward instantly knew he would regret what was coming next.

"Caroling, of course."

**Thanks for reading! And if you liked it, feel free to review. It'd be a good use of your Christmas spirit! Or if you'd like to leave a prompt, either here or on tumblr (imsuchanut), that'd be fantabulous. **

**Thanks!**

**Em**


	5. Chapter 5: Captain Tight-Ass

**Sorry these have been so late! I've been terribly busy with school and all. Forgive me?**

"I'll get the sweatshirts and the felt, you get the paint and the glue gun."

"Meet back here in five minutes?"

"Perfect." The pair sprinted away in opposite directions, each eager to get started. This was _tradition_. No, not particularly a classic one, but it was theirs. Had been ever since university. The way Fitz saw it; what good was Christmas without homemade Christmas sweatshirts? If they didn't have them, they simply wouldn't be festive enough. And that _certainly_ couldn't happen.

The pair reunited in the lab with their hands full of supplies. "Fitz, can you clear that counter?" He stuck his head over the glue gun in his arms and quirked his eyebrow.

"I'm a wee bit stuck myself here."

"Well I can't put down my things. The sweatshirts are white. They might get dusty and then they'll be ruined."

"Well I've got all this stuff and if I put it down it'll break! Or worse: explode everywhere."

"One of is is going to have to—"

"Well it can't be me."

"Fitz, can you please just—"

"You've got a bunch of bloody _fabric_—"

"_Guys!" _A load voice broke through their bickering. They turned to see Skye walking in, shoving her phone in her back pocket. "Wow. Never thought you two would snip at each other like that."

"She started it!"

"Oh, don't go blaming me!"

Skye waved her hands in front of their faces. "Seriously? Jesus. You two are either like an old married couple, or a pair of kids on the playground. Besides, it's neither of your faults."

The scientists gave her matching scrutinizing looks. Fitz piped up first. "Yeah? Then who's is it then?"

The girl started picking at her nail polish, as if she wasn't concerned at all. But Fitz and Simmons weren't _that_ thick. They were quite bright when it came to anything besides themselves. Whatever Skye was about to say, it obviously meant something to her.

"Captain Tight-Ass."

Simmons grimaced. "Do you really have to call him that?"

"Does he really have to be one?" Skye shot right back. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "Sorry, that was rude. But the man is seriously lacking some holiday spirit. And I figured you two of all people could, you know, help get him in the mood."

"When you say in the mood—"

"I mean for Christmas."

"Right. Glad that's clear." Fitz looked extremely uncomfortable, and started shifting back and forth on his feet.

"So, you in?"

Simmons gave her a smile elbowed Fitz in the side, prompting him to give her a half-assed smile too. "We'd be delighted, Skye. When would you like to start?"

"Now's good. You know, if you have any free time."

"We're actually about to do something," she tilted her chin down at the pile in her arms.

"Yeah, it's pretty important. Like, urgent. We can't do anything until we've finished this project."

"Oh, Fitz!"

Skye quirked an eyebrow. "Urgent?"

The man gulped. "Yeah, urgent."

"You're making Christmas sweatshirts." She tapped her chin. Then Skye gave them a conniving smile, making them instantly regret agreeing to help her. "You know, I think Ward would _really _benefit from that."

**Thanks for reading! If you'd like to review, that would be wonderful. Or, if you've got a prompt (pretty pretty please?) fell free to leave it here or on tumblr (imsuchanut).**

**Thanks!**

**Ems**


	6. Chapter 6: The Grinch

"You're joking."

"No, not this time. Please?"

"You already know the answer."

She took a step closer and attempted her most adorable pout. "Please Ward? You have done anything yet. That's not really in the whole Christmas spirit."

"I don't do Christmas spirit." He started to close his door, but Skye stuck her foot in before it closed all the way. She flung the door back open and crossed her arms.

"Like it or not, you are part of a team now. That means you can't keep doing your whole 'emo teenager' act. You need to get your act together and actually make an effort. Got it?" For once, Ward actually looked impressed. If she wasn't trying to put on a serious face, Skye would've been grinning at her success.

"Fine. I'm not going to make one—" he held up his hand when she opened her mouth. "But, I'll wear one."

"So?"

"So, if you or Fitzsimmons or whatever makes me one of them, I'll wear them. That's my final offer."

"Damn Ward, this isn't a business deal."

"Do you accept the offer or what?"

"Fine. You promise to wear it?"

"I always keep my word."

Skye practically sprinted back to the lab. She bursted back in through the doors with a triumphant smile on her face. "So, guess who just won Shark Tank?" She received blank looks from the pair. "You know, the show where you go on and try to wrangle a business deal?"

"You mean Dragon's Den?"

Skye waved it away. "Whatever, not important. What is important however, is how great I am." She hopped up on the counter, ignoring the looks from Fitz and Simmons.

Fitz gave her a look. "Well, someone's a bit full of themselves today."

"Well, what else would I be full of? Point is, I just got Ward to agree to the Christmas sweaters!"

Simmons clapped her hands and began scurrying around. "Oh, that's wonderful! But we'll have to tidy up, he'll definitely say something about the mess. Oh, where the broom go?"

"Uh, not quite. He's going to wear one. Not make one."

"Well, that's not very fun is it. I was expecting something much better than that."

Skye hopped off her place on the counter and walked over to them. "He promised to swear the sweatshirt. Don't you see what that means?"

"We have to make another sweatshirt?"

"Well yeah, but we can make it. We can put whatever we want on it, and he'll wear it! And I've got a plan."

An hour later, the group was almost done perfecting Ward's sweater. It had taken time (too much, perhaps), but all three felt it would be worth it. Skye claimed it was the most perfect sweatshirt in the world. Simmons claimed it was a bit rude. And Fitz? Well, he couldn't stop laughing.

"Just a lit bit more of green right…there. Done." Skye held up the finished piece. "What do you guys think?"

This resulted in another bought of laughs.

Skye wrapped the sweatshirt up in an old newspaper and dropped it outside his door. She knocked and then ran to the edge of the hallway, hiding behind the corner with the scientists. Seconds later, their expectations were met as a load voice filled the hallway along with angry footsteps.

"_The Grinch?"_


	7. Chapter 7: Cheater, Cheater

She held out a blindfold in one hand and a red bowl in the other. "A blindfold? Really Jem?"

She rolled her eyes in return and shifted her weight. "Can you hurry up? We've got a lot to work on today. Ward is _still_ complaining about that gun."

Fitz crossed his arms. "Well I'm certainly not adjusting that thing for him again. It's damn perfect already! And there's no way in _hell_ I'm going to wear a bloody _blindfold_, Jem."

"Well then you can't participate!" Jemma matched his glare and crossed her arms back at him.

"You're not the boss of me."

"But I _am_ in charge of the team's Secret Santa."

The pair had gotten continually closer with each reply, to the point where Coulson felt the need to clear his throat. Fitz and Simmons jumped and whipped around to face the agent. He couldn't help but give a small smile at the equal shades of red covering their faces. "I don't mean to interrupt, but what's the purpose of the blindfold?"

Fitz rubbed the back of his neck, only turning redder at Jemma's smirk. "You see Coulson, our dear Fitzy is a cheater. A nasty litter bugger. He tries to look and see who he's getting every year. And this year, he really doesn't want to get Ward. Hence, the blindfold."

"Fitz, really?"

"I do not cheat! I just, you know, bend the odds in my favour a bit."

"Otherwise known as cheating."

"Why are you still going on about this? I know for a fact that you—"

"Guys!" The pair fell silent once more. "Fitz, wear the blindfold. Simmons, go get the rest of the Team." Coulson sat back down on the edge of his desk. He picked up a mini Tesseract replica, and started playing with it. "You all need to get into the Christmas spirit. From now on, I'll be taking a great hand in the holiday preparations. Understood?" They nodded, eyes wide, still unused to being scolded. Jemma sprinted out the door, and Fitz tugged on the blindfold.

"Coulson? Can you…er, hand me the bowl?" The man did as he asked, and Fitz rummaged around before finally deciding on a slip of paper. "I've got a good feeling about this one!" The scientist yanked off the blindfold and eagerly opened the paper.

His face instantly dropped. "God damn it! I've got the bloody Grinch!"


	8. Chapter 8: The Home Depot

FLASHBACK

"Serves you right for trying to cheat." He pouted and fell back on her back. Pictures of them, the team, and her family adorned the ceiling, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it Jem. Bad karma and all. I'm _such_ a terrible person."

"Glad you understand." She laid down next to him, and he instantly moved a little closer.

"So, are you going to help me or what?"

"Well of course, Fitz. No one deserves to suffer that much alone."

"That makes feel _so_ much better."

"What does one get the man who hates everything?" Fitz propped himself up on his elbow and turned to face her.

"A one-way ticket to Antarctica?"

"Nah, he'd probably just come back and kill you."

"How about Mars? Even he can't survive in space."

"Then he'd frighten some Martians into building them a space ship."

END FLASHBACK

* * *

Coulson gave him a scrutinizing look. "This doesn't explain anything."

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there! So, we decided to go to the nearest mall…."

* * *

"What about this?" Fitz held up a Santa hat. "He'd love this, wouldn't he? It's right up his alley!"

Jemma giggled. The thought of Ward in the hat? Well, she sincerely doubted it would come true. "I don't think so. How about this?" She held up a black polo, causing Fitz to wrinkle his nose.

"Why is it that you keep picking up clothes? How is it you know his size anyways?"

She blushed and elbowed him at the side, smirking at the muffled groan. "Clothes are easy. Just get him something black. Besides, it's not hard to guess sizes."

* * *

"Hurry this up Fitz. I'm losing my patience, and you won't like me when that happens."

"Don't worry! Almost there!"

"Fitz. Tell me how you got kicked out of Home Depot. Now."

"Sorry, sir! That's what I was doing!"

"No, you were procrastinating. Now get to the point."

"Right, so we went to Home Depot."

"Funnily enough, I got that."

"Anyways, so we were looking for something that he could still use on the plane, and we somehow made it to the tool aisle."

* * *

"What about this?"

"I dunno, Jem. Looks about one ounce to heavy." She picked up a larger wrench. "Oh, he could do serious damage with that thing!"

"Yeah, like take out an eye."

"We, well, you, have already done that."

"Right, forgot." She picked up a saw. "Imagine Coulson's face!"

Fitz laughed and picked up another tool. "We'd get in such trouble at customs!"

"You look like an axe murderer!"

"Well, what do you think I do with my spare time?" He picked up a crowbar and put on a scowl. "I'm Agent Grant Ward, and I like to smash people's faces in. I will hunt anyone down who dares cross me!"

"Fitz, someone will hear you!"

"Relax, Jem." He put on his 'Ward' face again. "I have access to weapons of mass destruction, know how to make a bomb, and you will never see me coming. All I need know is a nice sharp tool to add to my collection!" He turned around to face Jemma, holding up an axe. Her face was pale. "What? What's wrong?" She pointed behind him, and he turned around slowly to see a gang of fierce-looking security guards. "Oh, bloody hell."

* * *

"You understand how many calls I've had to make because of this incident?"

"Yes sir."

"How much time I've had to devote to getting you out of this?"

"Yes sir."

"How poorly this reflects on the team?"

"Yes sir."

"Did you even get him a gift?"


	9. Chapter 9: Photo Album

She made sure no one else was in the hallway, before silently slipping into her room and locking the door. She hated this time of year. Not because she had anything against Christmas itself, although let's face it, she wasn't the most spirited of people. No, Melinda May hated the Christmas season because of the memories it pulled up. Whatever your beliefs, Christmas season was always ultimately about family, and she didn't have any of that. Not anymore, anyways.

Family was gone. Given up. For good. She made that decision a long time ago, and she couldn't change it even if she wanted to. There was no one left.

Melinda May didn't feel regret. She didn't feel sorrow. She didn't feel loneliness. Not on the outside at least. Inside, it was fairly safe to say she was in emotional turmoil. There was no way you could have lived her life and not be. But she got fairly good at hiding the emotional scars over the years.

If, by hiding, you meant turning yourself into an impenetrable fortress of solitude.

Melinda sat down on her bed, listening for any surrounding noise, and possible listeners. To her relief, she was met with silence. It was three in the morning, after all. And most of the people on the bus required a _high_ amount of sleep.

She slowly reached under her bunk and pulled out a wooden box. It was free of dust, but there was no escaping the years of wear and tear. Though faded and scratched, it was still beautiful, with elegant swirls and gold designs etched into the wood.

Melinda pulled out a key and opened it, grimacing at the accompanying noise.

She knew it was illogical: after all, anyone on the Bus was perfectly capable of opening it. A flimsy, archaic lock wasn't going to stop anyone. But the fact that they didn't know it existed certainly did.

Gingerly, she opened the heirloom's lid and pulled out the book. The spine still cracked when she opened it, from years of disuse. There was no use staring at it often. All it did was serve as a reminder of her past. She didn't need that.

Melinda flipped through the photos of her grandparents, old Christmas cards, and family vacation photos. They were all so happy, so grateful for each other. And she was so young, and so_ so_ innocent. Her younger self in the beach photo had only just started taking karate lessons. She had no idea what was in store, no idea of the horrible things she would come to do.

That's what Christmas did to her: remind her of the monster she had become. She abandoned her own family, betrayed all of their memories. And for what? To stop a few petty psychos? That had turned out _really_ well. Now she was just a failed agent, taking out her anger on the younger generations. There was no place for her here. No place for her at SHIELD. And no place for her at what used to be home. She wasn't part of a codependent due like Fitzsimmons. She didn't have the undeniable attraction and inevitable partnership that was Skye and Ward. And she just wasn't Coulson, who had family of his own kind. She was on her own, always.

Melinda didn't believe in gods. After everything she had seen, she knew no one was out there to protect her. No one in this world was safe from their inevitable fate. But at this time, she mustered all of her belief and muttered some small words, just asking for forgiveness and peace for her family. Whatever was out there, if there was anything. She just wanted peace.

She put the box away and slipped under the covers. There was no use staying up thinking. Melinda accepted her life for what it was, and fell into a dreamless sleep without sparing her past another thought. They haunted her enough when she was awake.


	10. Chapter 10: The Family Photo

**Sorry I suck. But I promise, before December 26****th****, I'm going to have all of these posted! Feel free to yell at me here or on tumblr (imsuchanut). If I wasn't on tumblr so often, then I'd get a lot more done. Anyways, this prompt was borrowed (WITH PERMISSION) from meowl-mittens. Enjoy!**

"Just a little to the left…"

"Here?"

"No, no, move it back right a bit."

"_Simmons."_

"_Fitz."_

"I've been adjusting the garland for _five minutes_ now. It's perfectly fine, Jem."

She huffed and crossed her arms, glaring at the man across from her. This was _not_ a trivial matter. This was the family Christmas card, for goodness' sake! And she was not going to have it ruined by a sloppy garland.

"Fine is not acceptable."

Fitz quirked his eyebrows and held his hands up, failing to repress the smirk creeping up on his face. He couldn't help it—she was always so adorable when she was frustrated. Her eyebrows crinkled, her lips pouted, and _bad Fitz_, he thought. _Don't go there. _

But seeing her glare intensify, he straightened himself out and moved the garland one last time. "Better?" he called out over his shoulder.

"Perfect," she replied, suddenly next to him. Startled, he jumped—causing her to giggle, and him to smile at her laugh. Damn. I really need to stop. He was falling too hard for his best friend, and simple logic told him it wouldn't end well, his head told him it wouldn't end well, hell, even protocol told him no. But did his heart listen?

Of course not. It insisted on being stubborn, per usual. He never could resist when it came to Jemma.

A nudge from her brought him back to reality. "You alright, Fitz?"

He smiled down at her. "Yeah. Let's take the photo."

This had been a tradition for years now. Back when they were at uni, Fitz had stayed with the Simmons for the holidays. They had welcomed him with open arms, and he grew to think of them as his won family too. They spent three weeks together that winter—it was hard not to. Besides, he was Jemma's best friend, and her family wasn't going to dislike him. Subsequently, he was roped into being a part of their Christmas card. It gave him butterflies at the time, although for the life of him he couldn't figure it out. But the tradition stayed, and every year Fitz was invited to be a part of the Christmas card, right next to Jemma, where he was supposed to be.

Then came SHIELD.

They were away for months on end, relying on video chats and email to keep in touch with their families. Not each other, though. They were always together. But they didn't have normal time off for the holidays—this year they were going home (her house was home now) on Christmas Eve. There was no way to take the photo in time, so Fitz and Simmons had started taking their own picture and adding it to the collection on the card. It was sweet; their own little thing. And if relatives happen to think they were together? Well, _he_ certainly didn't mind.

But Jemma would if he didn't get his arse moving and finish setting up the camera. So, he quickly did that, always under her watchful gaze. She was as serious about the holidays as she was science—you were _not_ allowed to mess up her experiments. He fixed the camera and went to take his place next to her in front of the bloody garland. She stepped closer to him, and he wrapped and arm around her waist. It wasn't exactly subtle, but he certainly wasn't copping any feels. He really hoped she didn't mind. And if her smile up at him was anything to go by, she didn't.

He, of course, smiled back. And at that moment, while they were both still smiling at each other, the camera went off. He thought it turned out perfect.

**Thanks for reading! And if you'd like to review, that'd be wonderful. OR leave a prompt! **


	11. Chapter 11: Basic Training

**Well, brace yourself, because there are at least four more of these coming today. Ah, the joys of procrastination!**

"I'm not doing it."

"Yes, yes you are."

"What's going to stop me from walking away?" She had him there. She had no reason to do it. She could easily run to Coulson, who would immediately take her side. But he needed an ally in this, however unwilling they may be.

Ward thought for a moment, before meeting her gaze with a smirk.

"I'll get the tracking bracelet taken off."

"Fine." And so, the first of many, many pushups began.

_A few hours earlier…._

"Take it down."

"Oh, come on Ward!"

"This is an order. Take it down, now."

The pair looked at each other and giggled. "An order? Really Ward?" He shifted his weight and crossed his arms. Defiance was _not_ something he was used to. Especially by the little scientists. They were obedient, good little workers. Following orders was their _thing_.

"Are you refusing a direct order?"

This time, Fitz rolled his eyes. "You're not our SO, Ward."

"No, but I am level seven, and I am your superior. Don't make me ask again."

"Well to be fair, you never asked in the first place," Simmons interjected. That was the wrong thing to say, because it caused Ward to take a few deep breaths and pinch the bridge of his nose. When he looked up again, he was wearing a fake smile that came off looking serial killer-ish.

"Fitz. Simmons. Will you two please take down the damn mistletoe?"

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen," came a voice from above. The trio looked up to see Coulson leaning over the railing, wearing his signature half-smile.

"Sir, how long have you been up there?" Fitz asked. The man in question walked down to the lower level, approaching Ward with what looked like a tinge of disappointment.

"Oh, long enough."

Ward raised his eyebrows. "Sir, they need to take it down."

"And why is that?"

"It's…a distraction to the team. A silly, unnecessary tradition."

"I think we're all mature enough to handle it. Don't you, Agent Ward?" Ward had nothing else to say, and instead took to staring at a point on the wall behind Coulson. "Dismissed."

He might've been dismissed, but Ward wasn't done.

He marched to Skye's room, throwing open the door with more force than was necessary, and completely ignoring her protests at his entrance. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Mistletoe."

Skye gave him a look. She always knew he was strange, but she had no clue what he was up to this time. "Look, if this is about that one—"

He cut her off with a cold glare. "It's not."

"Okay? Care to explain yourself then, Captain Tight Ass?"

He sent her another glare. "Much to my dismay, the mistletoe will remain up."

"And why are you telling me—"

"Because you aren't allowed to participate in it."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Ward, you can't—"

"I'm your SO, and you're still on thin ice here. Don't question my orders."

"And what if I do?"

"Let's just say, you won't like it."

She wasn't happy, but she wasn't going to argue with him. He was already in an awful mood, and Skye didn't want to push it. For now. But she was not going to let this go.

So when he scheduled a surprise training session that afternoon, she immediately called Fitzsimmons, who were a little too eager to get Ward into the holiday spirit.

Which is how Ward found himself stuck under the mistletoe, yet again, with Skye.

After realizing that they were surrounded by bunches of mistletoe, he whirled around to glare at the girl. "You did this."

"You can't prove it!"

"I told you to stay away from this. And you disobeyed that order."

"Come on, Ward," she pleaded.

"No. Two hundred pushups. Now. And I better not see you anywhere near the mistletoe again, or I'll double it."

She straightened herself up and met his eyes. He didn't like the holidays, that much was obvious. But he had _no_ right to be such an ass about it. "I'm not doing it."

"Yes, yes you are."

"What's going to stop me from walking away?" She had him there. She had no reason to do it. She could easily run to Coulson, who would immediately take her side. But he needed an ally in this, however unwilling they may be.

Ward thought for a moment, before meeting her gaze with a smirk.

"I'll get the tracking bracelet taken off."

"Fine." And so, the first of many, many pushups began.

**Thanks for reading! And please review, guys. You have no idea how happy it makes me!**


	12. Chapter 12: Movie Night

"You've got the popcorn?" He held up the enormous bowl and quirked an eyebrow.

"Yep. You've got the drinks?"

"Already set up. You're late, Fitz."

The man rolled his eyes back at her. "Yeah, by two minutes, Jem. It took longer than I thought to make all this!" She nudged his shoulder, causing him to stumble and almost lose his grip on the bowl. "Sorry!"

"It's alright. So, what movie are we watching?" Jemma gave him a smile and held up the DVD, laughing as his face lit up at the sight of it. "You're the best, Jem."

She looked down at the tight-clad man on the cover. "Yeah, I know." Elf was a classic, and definitely the best Christmas movie ever in Fitz's opinion. Because of him, she had seen it one too many times, but she couldn't really complain.

Fitz put down the popcorn next to the drinks and the pair settled into the sofa, with Fitz wrapping an arm around Simmons' shoulders. They had been a lot closer lately, and he couldn't get enough of it. So he suggested a movie night, and she had readily complied, much to his delight. Skye and Ward seemed to have taken over the mistletoe, and he wasn't going to kiss her under something so cheesy and trivial. But a movie night? Absolutely perfect.

The movie started, and within five minutes the pair was laughing hysterically. Simmons had her forehead on his shoulder, and she could feel the vibrations from his laughter. It was an adorable scene, but cute things didn't last long on the Bus.

"Elf? I love this movie!" cried a voice, and the pair whipped around to see Skye entering the room, Ward following close behind. They were both sweaty and slightly out of breath, just coming from a training session. Probably. Most likely.

Skye grabbed a handful of popcorn and a bottle of water before plopping down next to Simmons on the sofa. "It's been so long since I've seen this!" she said between mouthfuls of food. Ward sat down next to her, sending an apologetic look to Fitz and Simmons in the process. Fitz glared back, but Jemma smiled and made more room on the sofa.

"How was training?" Skye and Ward exchanged looks.

"Exhausting," said Skye.

"Tedious," replied Ward, before taking a mouthful of popcorn.

"Hey, it's not my fault you—"

"Well then whose fault is it?"

"I don't know, maybe—"

"Guys!" Fitz shouted, causing the group to look at him. "Can we please just watch the movie?"

The group settled back down, except for the occasional bickering from Skye and Ward over food. It was _almost_ as if Ward was getting into the Christmas spirit if his laughter and consumption of Christmas cookies was anything to go by. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, but Fitz was actually very grumpy. But he couldn't bloody show it, because then Jemma would ask what was wrong, and he couldn't exactly tell her.

So he faked a smile, grabbed some more popcorn, and held Jemma a bit tighter. As the credits rolled to an end he stood up, cracked his back, and gave a fake smile. "Well, that was fun. Time for the program we've been meaning to watch on the science channel, Jem."

"No no no," said Skye. "Let's watch another Christmas movie. Please?" She gave him the puppy dog eyes. Fitz turned to Simmons, who looked confused.

"Actually, I agree. Let's watch another movie. Thoughts?"

Skye looked at Ward, who shiften uncomfortably in his seat. "What?"

Skye elbowed him. "Do you want to watch another movie or not?"

"I should probably go to bed. It's getting late, you should too." This prompted what appeared to be a silent conversation between the two for the next minute, until Ward addressed the group again. "Actually, let's watch another movie." Skye looked almost _too_ smug.

"Rudolph okay with everyone?" Jemma asked, and played the movie in response to the nods. Fitz however glowered at the screen. This was supposed to be his night with Jemma. Not some group get-together. He certainly didn't bother Skye and Ward when they were alone. Why did they have to interrupt this?

But when Simmons was asleep on him fifteen minutes later, he realized the night wasn't all that disappointing.


	13. Chapter 13: Homesick

He found her in her room, curled up in a pile of blankets on her bed. There was a half-empty cup of tea on the table, a cardigan on the floor, and a bar of chocolate in her hands. Her eyes, usually so bright and cheerful, were empty and trained on the television. It was enough to break his heart, too.

He closed the door softly, trying not to startle. When he reached her, he sat down on her bed and wrapped his arms around her. She instantly curled into the embrace, letting the chocolate drop with a soft thud. He rested his chin on her head and held her tighter.

It had been a normal day of experimentation in the lab, until her mobile starting ringing and she ran out of the room. He waited a half hour for her to come back, but went to look for her when she didn't. She didn't say anything to him, didn't tell him who had called, didn't give him any idea of what could possibly be wrong. All he knew was that his precious girl was upset. And he couldn't have that now, could he?

"I miss them so much, Fitz."

"Miss who?"

She let out a sob. "My family. It's just been so long since I've seen them. And I keep thinking that I'm betraying them, by leaving them to do this."

"Jem, what we're doing is helping people. There's nothing wrong with it. And everyone leaves home eventually."

She curled into him further, and he slipped under the blankets to join her. "It just feels so wrong here. I'm so far away from them, and so much has happened."

"That's just part of growing up."

"But what happens when we go home? What am I supposed to tell them? I can't lie to them; I can't tell them all that's happened."

"You don't have to give them all the details. But you haven't done anything wrong." He lifted up her chin and looked her in the eyes. "What you've done is amazing. And they are so proud of you. And even if they weren't, that wouldn't be the worst possible thing."

"I can't lose them: they're my family, Fitz. They're everything. And sometimes I just feel so alone here, without them. " He held her for a moment, not knowing what to say. After all, everything she was saying had run through his head, too. Sometimes he felt so alone on the Bus. No brothers or sisters, no parents. But then again, he had Jemma. And Skye, Ward, Coulson, and even May. He never was truly alone.

"You've got a bigger family now, Jem."


	14. Chapter 14: Oh Christmas Tree P1

"Dismissed."

Ward opened his mouth to argue, but quickly shut it at the expression on Coulson's face. He left the room silently. Ward caught up with Skye and followed Skye to her van, rolling his eyes as she started skipping. It was seven in the morning, on Christmas Eve. He shouldn't even be _up_, much less ready to leave. May and Fitzsimmons had gone away, leaving him alone with Skye and Coulson. Although the bus was satisfyingly quiet, he was now stuck doing the dirty work. Which left him with Skye, who was far too cheerful for the ungodly hour. Whatever she was drinking, he clearly needed some of it. And fast.

"This is going to be so much fun!" She was still skipping. _Legitimately skipping._ Like the four-year-olds in cartoons. He didn't know people actually _did_ that, much less adults training to be SHIELD agents. This was going to be harder than he thought. How was he supposed to function with this?

"This is going to be awful." And it really, truly was going to be. There was no possible way it _couldn't_ be.

"I can't wait! It's going to finally be like a real Christmas." Real Christmases were overrated and a waste of time and money._ If you want to believe in Jesus and all that, sure,_ he thought. _Just don't drag all this stupid tradition crap into it. And don't force it on those trying to save themselves from the madness._

"How much longer?" Skye stopped skipping and gave Ward a glare over her shoulder. He was not going to ruin this day for her. Picking out a Christmas tree was a tradition, one she was never given the opportunity to do. And there was no way in _hell_ she was going to put up with his crap. She opened up the car door and slid in the passenger seat, smiling as the engine revved up. There was nothing like home.

The man in question held up his hands and slouched down in his seat. As much as he didn't want to do this, logic told him arguing with her would only make it worse for him. But, the fighting wasn't always bad. A small part of his head liked bickering with her, almost craved it. Their fights were always amusing, and always left both of them riled up. The way her eyes would flicker, her snarky comebacks, it was actually sort of h—_let's stop right there_, he thought. _It's still seven in the morning. That's just the crazy talking._

He shook his head and stared out the window. Much to his chagrin, they were taking her van. It wasn't exactly the best for snowy weather, and it wasn't going to be very comfortable once the tree was shoved in. He was definitely going to get a face full of branches. They passed the entrance sign and he rolled his eyes. All those years spent training for SHIELD, all for this. Was it too early to have a mid-life crisis?


	15. Chapter 15: Oh Christmas Tree P2

Goddamn Coulson and his goddamn ideas about "holiday spirit". This was SHIELD, not some charity organization. And he was supposed to be tough-as-nails Agent Coulson. He used to hear stories about how great the man was. It seemed dying had loosened a few wires. Or Fitzsimmons had rubbed off on him too much. Either was likely.

But it was entirely unnecessary to send him and Skye out for a "bonding trip". They spent enough time together on the plane. All that training, and movie night with Fitzsimmons the other day. Wasn't that enough? And his thing with May, who strangely hadn't said a word to him before leaving. She had been acting weird lately. He wouldn't say it was because she was hiding something, because that was her job, but something was…bothering her. But he had to admit, it was a bit of a relief not being around her. But being around Skye just felt…weird. _This whole thing was weird. Even Christmas trees, when you think about it, are weird._

Still, he followed her through the rows of trees, brushing away stray branches. That was when she looked over her shoulder, and catching his eye, winked, before taking off in a sprint.

The game was one. He never could resist a challenge. Suddenly, finding a Christmas tree was a lot more interesting.

In and out of the rows she went, occasionally slowing down before speeding back up, and Ward was hot on her trail. Then she maneuvered through a particularly dense clump of trees, causing him to lose track of her for a minute. "Skye?"

"Up here!" He caught sight of her bright red sweater a few metres ahead.

"Come back here!"

"Catch me if you can!" That was all it took to turn on his competitive streak, and he ran faster, loving the chase. It was equal parts thrilling and frustrating, because it just reminded him of how he never could quite pin her. But this? This was something he could easily win.

When he finally reached her he wrapped his arms around her waist before throwing her over his shoulder. She was out of breath and he could feel her heart racing, but she was still laughing hysterically. And he couldn't help but smile.

"Put me down!"

"Never!" She giggled again, and he gently put her down in the snow, still holding her waist after she had safely reached the ground. There was a pause, still looking at each other, and he found himself closer to her than ever before. She was right there, and something kept drawing him closer and closer to her still.

Then, like a splash of cold water, he realized what he was doing, and abruptly pulled back, sending a gust of cold wind between them. He put on his usual monotonic face, but caught a flicker of something he couldn't detect in her eyes as he did so. He looked anywhere but her.

"You want this tree, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess." He could feel the tension in the air, it was uncomfortable and made him rub the back of his neck. The only thing to do was get out.

"Come on, let's go pack this thing up."

They wrapped the tree up and shoved it in the van with minimal communication, both not wanting to break some unsaid rule. The drive back to the Bus was deafeningly silent. But he couldn't help but think about what almost was the whole way back. And for some reason, that brought a smile to his lips.


	16. 16: A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

He woke up with a start to a loud knock. The room was still dark, so he couldn't tell where it was coming from, but the knocker seemed to be getting increasingly impatient. He made to sit up, but a warm weight on his chest prevented him from doing so. Confused and tired, he patted the comforter only to find hair. Lots of it. And it definitely wasn't his.

Alarmed now, Fitz reached over and yanked on the chain for the bedside light. There was no hiding his shock at what he saw. Jemma, his Jemma, was in bed with him, half of her body sprawled across his. Her very unclothed body, if her bare back and the dip in the comforter was anything to go by.

"Fitz," she muttered. "Turn off the light."

He gulped. "Erm, what are you doing here?" His stuttering, something he only did when he was very nervous, was in full force. Jemma sat up and looked at him, and in turn he stared at anything but her.

"What's wrong with you?" The knocking noise grew louder, and she sighed and pushed herself off of the bed. His earlier assumption about lack of clothing was correct. Jemma grabbed some clothes from a dresser and pulled them on hastily. Noticing his position still in bed, she frowned at him. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yeah, erm, give me a second." That's when he noticed that he didn't just remember last night. He wasn't even in his room. Well, the room he stayed in when he was at Jemma's. And this definitely wasn't her house.

No, this room was painted a bright white, with black accents everywhere. It was large and airy, with a skylight and bay window. He grabbed a pair of shorts from the ground (they were undoubtedly his, but why the hell were they off?) and slipped them on, making his way over to the window, where he was met with the undoubtable sight of the Scottish countryside. This was exactly like the type of house he'd always dreamed he'd have, before he met Jemma and joined SHIELD.

But he didn't have much to admire the view, because a pair of arms circled around his waist, startling him. "Come on, put on some clothes. We're being summoned." She reached and put her chin on his shoulder for a moment, staring at the view with him. He then turned around to meet her gaze, still trapped in her arms.

If this was a dream (and what else could it be?), he was going to make the most of it. So he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss, which was eagerly reciprocated, until the knocking started up again. "Just a minute!" she called over her shoulder. Jemma then kissed him one more time, before slipping out of his arms. "We've really got to go now." He took a hold of her hand and let her pull him away.

Just as they were about to leave the room, something on the wall caught his eye. Hanging in a large black frame was a photo of him and Jemma on a beach, with a tiny blonde girl nestled in between them.


	17. A Dream is Wish Your Heart Makes P2

He was met with the sight of a hyper little blonde girl who couldn't have been more than three, and a large brown dog. Both apparently felt the need to attack him, and he almost fell backwards from the combined force, much to the amusement of Jemma. "Mummy! Daddy! Santa Claus brought me presents!"

He had an inkling before, but now it was shoved in his face. This was his daughter. Their daughter. She pulled him by the hand, and suddenly a wave of memories ran through his mind. Jemma in a bright white dress, days at the beach, picking out the house and days spent in bed, and finally images of this precious little girl.

Everything he had ever wanted was right here. A goofy smile crossed his face, and he pulled Jemma in for a kiss, ignoring the gagging noise from his (his!) daughter. He then squatted to her height and ruffled her hair. "You said something about presents from Santa, yeah?"' She nodded eagerly and pointed to the tree. "How about we go see what you got then?"

The next half hour passed in a blur of wrapping paper and shrieks. There was a laughing Jemma, a towering Christmas tree, and then cinnamon buns and hot chocolate. A perfect Christmas morning, no doubt. Once the initial excitement died down, the family retired to the sofa to watch Elf. He smiled, thinking of how he and Jemma always watched it together. And now they had someone else to share it with.

Whatever he had done last night (although he had a pretty good idea, judging by his predicament in the morning), the lack of sleep was obviously catching up to him. He figured a quick ten minute nap wouldn't hurt anyone. Jemma and their daughter were still wrapped up in the movie, giggling and munching on cookies. Neither of them would even notice him sleeping. He pulled on a blanket, laid down his head, and promptly fell asleep.

He woke up later to a dark room, this time to a beeping noise. Groaning, he rolled over to see the bright red letters of his alarm clock. It read nine am. How long had he been asleep for? Fitz reached up for the lamp, grimacing at what he saw. He was back in his room at Jemma's house, and it was still Christmas morning. _That was some dream,_ he thought.

But then a knocking noise at the door pulled him out of his sleepy haze, prompting him to push himself out of bed and make his way to the door. He pulled it open to be greeted with a smiling Jemma, holding two cups of coffee. She handing him one, before quickly darting up and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Fitz! Now come on, put some proper clothes on. We've got presents to unwrap!" She walked the way with a skip in her step, and he was left rubbing the burning spot on his cheek with a sappy smile on his face.


	18. Chapter 18: Peace on Earth

Melinda May sighed in content as she settled into her beach chair. It was the perfect scene: golden sands, crystal clear ocean, and best of all: scarcely populated. Her kind of holiday.

Christmas was pointless. She didn't believe in it, she didn't have anyone to celebrate it with, and it was basically an excuse for everyone to act ridiculous. She had managed to avoid the majority of the festivities on the plane, although whether they avoided her out of fear or desire to torment Ward was beyond her. Either way, she managed to escape with her wits, and finally made it to her holiday destination.

Ever since she was a child, Melinda loved the beach. The ebb and flow of the waves was soothing, almost hypnotizing. And despite the long list of things that irked her, sand wasn't one of them. So although she was deeply invested in her work, she was not going to say no to a vacation. Especially when I meant she could go someplace like this.

A shadow blocked her sun, and she looked up to see a tall, handsome waiter holding a tray of drinks. She leaned up and accepter her Pina Colada with a smile, before settling back down and staring at the waves.

This felt wonderful. No work, no worrying, no guilt that followed her with every step she took on the Bus. She was away from SHIELD now, even for a moment. There were no looming secrets to keep, no one who knew her, no one who was expecting much more than she knew how to give.

Coulson wasn't here to pressure her, to make her get back in the field that both entranced and terrified her. He was her mentor, her colleague, her friend. But whatever happened to him had changed him, and she didn't know how to deal with that. Ward wasn't here to actually make her feel guilt and anxiety. She didn't feel guilt over the act itself, just what it might mean for the future. And she didn't need anyone pitying or taking the fall for her. There was no hyperactive, familiar Skye, who filled her with both jealousy and rage. The girl reminded Melinda so much of her younger self, the person she was ashamed to be. There was no room for heart at SHIELD, something the girl was so obviously full of. And there was Fitzsimmons. They were too young, too innocent. They didn't belong at SHIELD. They had a whole life ahead of them, together. You didn't have to be psychic to say what was going to happen.

This beach was Melinda's sanctuary from them. At the beach she was at peace. And in the end, wasn't that what Christmas was all about? Peace on Earth?

The waves crashed on the shore again, sending water droplets on her face. She couldn't help but smile. "Coulson was right," she said to herself as she opened her book and picked her drink back up. "Tahiti really is a magical place."


	19. Chapter 19: Workaholic

Coulson groaned and rubbed his temples. His team might be on holiday, but his workday never ended. And apparently, neither did Fury's.

"I'm sorry sir, but you can't really—"

"Yes I can, and you will do it. They'll listen to you, Coulson. I'll just piss them off." Fury gave a small chuckle at that, and Coulson resisted the urge to say something rash.

"Sir, they all think I'm dead."

"Actually, we had them told a week ago. Just in case this became a major issue."

"Why didn't you do it then?" The director gave an agitated sigh, but Coulson had learned to ignore his sass by this point. He and Fury were as close to friends as Fury ever got. His mood swings were nothing new.

"We didn't want to raise any alarms. We didn't have the green light from the President yet."

"That didn't stop us last time."

Fury's face grew stony. He had almost lost his post after attempting to stop the missile, despite the positive outcome of the situation. He didn't like to be reminded of the people stopping him from doing as he pleased. Authority was not something Fury dealt with well. He _is_ the authority.

"Last time was life or death. We were in a war, Agent. The circumstances are very different now, as you well know."

"I know that too well, Director. Who was the source?"

"Barton and Romanov themselves."

Coulson raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair, one of the things he really enjoyed about the Bus. He designed it himself. "That really sinks it in. And they're sure it's too much for Stark?"

Fury nodded. "He may have dealt with the Mandarin, but this is above them all. They're building an arsenal, Agent. And we need to stop them before it's too late. Hydra cannot and will not get the best of us. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Make sure they get the importance of the situation. I have a feeling certain member will have problems complying, but we need all we've got."

"When do you want me to start?"

"Tomorrow. We'll give them some time to enjoy their day. Tomorrow's not going to be fun for anyone."

"And my team, sir?"

Fury looked down at the pile of papers in his hands. "Give them some more time off. This shouldn't last too long. Tell them you're extending their vacation time. Lord knows all of the Agents whine about not getting enough of it anyways. Anything else?"

"I'm good. Merry Christmas, Director Fury."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Agent Coulson. Now assemble the Avengers."


	20. Chapter 20: Let it Snow

Skye smiled as the snowflakes fell on her face. She was a child at heart, and snow never failed to bring a smile to her lips. It was a cold Christmas Eve, and the streets were almost empty, but she couldn't resist go outside. The street was all light up and covered in decorations, and the pavement was slowly turning white. There was only one thing to do.

"Oh, the weather outside is frightful!" And so was her singing voice, but it was almost midnight on Christmas Eve, and no one was around to care. She kept singing, twirling around under the lamplight, until the song ended. Skye walked to a nearby bench and plopped down, wrinkling her nose at how out of breath she was. "Ward was right," she muttered. "I really do need to work on my cardio. I guess I'll do it to—" then she remembered. It was Christmas Eve, and she was on her very own vacation. Alone.

The van was her home, and she supposed the Bus was too now. But apparently Coulson had the right to kick her out for Christmas, so he did. It was a present, of sorts. SHIELD paid for her to stay in a swanky hotel and gave her money for food, so she guessed it could've been worse. Actually, this was probably her best Christmas yet. The nuns weren't all that into Santa, and after she left, Christmases where one was completely broke weren't the most uplifting. Still, she had always managed to make the best of it. She should be happy now. She was helping people, she wasn't living out of her van, and she definitely wasn't drunk. So why did she feel so sad inside?

A laughing couple passed her and Skye realized why: she was so very, very alone. Sure, she had a nice place to stay, a steady(ish) job and food to eat. But that didn't exactly mean anything when you had no one to share it with. And now that Miles was gone…she really was all alone.

The Team was wonderful, really, they were, but they didn't really count. They were a lot better now, as they had formed bonds of sorts, and forgiven her after the incident with Miles. All except for Ward, who held out his own special grudge. But they all had family of their own. Fitz and Simmons had each other, wrapped up in their own oblivious little world. Plus, they had family and friends outside the team. The Bus wasn't their lifeline. May didn't need anyone, and she didn't want anyone, and that was okay. Skye just wasn't hardened like her. Ward had his own family, however twisted they may be. And he loved them all, despite everything that had happened over the years. And Coulson, well…she was sure he had someone, something, outside of the Team. She wasn't sure who it was, but she got the sense that she shouldn't pry. But she was so very alone, pretending that everything was okay, when the loneliness was raging inside. When they came back, everyone will have gotten some refill on whatever they were missing. And she will just be drained.

Skye smiled sadly as the clock struck twelve, breathing in the serenity of the snowy scene. "Merry Christmas," she whispered to herself.


	21. Chapter 21: A Christmas Carol P1

Grant Ward grunted as he tried to open the door. His right arm held his luggage; his left a bag full of present. And his mouth currently held his keys prisoner, the same keys he needed in order to get inside. Despite his years of training and expertise in combat, Agent Grant Ward was no match for holiday season. The cold air was whipping at his face, the present bag digging into his arm, and the carolers on the street were giving him a headache. This was no vacation; this was Purgatory. He wished he had stayed on the Bus.

After he finally managed to open the door, he dropped the bags with a satisfying "thud" on the couch and looked around. The house was festive, yes, but dark. And it appeared to be empty. "Hello?" he called out, but there was no response. "Mom? Dad?" Still no reply. He walked into the kitchen and flipped the lights on. There was barely any food in the fridge, save a couple of things that were about to expire. Someone hadn't been here for at least a week.

That was more than enough to make him suspicious. This was his family after all, and despite his defensive shields, he cared for them. Almost too much, which was why he had to separate them from the job. He couldn't let thoughts of them get in his way. That had almost cost innocent people their lives with the rage incident.

Ward pulled out his gun and crept through the hallways, looking for any sign of what had happened or anyone still here. But all the lights were off, all the rooms untouched and beds made. He checked all the windows and doors, but there was no sign of forced entry. Nothing was out of place, nothing missing (bar his family of course). He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a hefty glass of scotch before sitting down at the kitchen table and pulling out his phone.

Whatever had taken his family, he wasn't going to face it alone. He had no leads, no clue as to what happened. He needed back up. The team could be here in a few hours, maybe less if they hurried. So what if it was Christmas? At least one of them had to be Atheist or something. Besides, they worked for SHIELD. There was no break from the job. The job was life.

Ward was dialing Coulson's number when he noticed something on the wall, something that made him drop his phone and bang his head on the table. He was so stupid. Completely, and utterly stupid. On the wall there hung a family calendar. And in big, red, obvious letters was the word "Cruise".

He had forgotten. They had offered to take him with them, and he had turned them down. He loved them, yes, but hadn't wanted to go on a cruise with them for two weeks. Besides, it wasn't even possible for him to get that much time off of work. Deep down, Ward knew that Coulson would've had no problem letting him go. But Ward was sour, and just didn't have room for Christmas.

Exhausted from the past week, he made his way to his room and plopped down on his bed. He hoped for a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Unfortunately, you can't always get what you want.


	22. Chapter 22: A Christmas Carol P2

There was the peaceful pitch black of a dreamless sleep, and then suddenly there wasn't. He was falling, from where he didn't know, but what looked like a tiled floor was getting closer and closer by the second.

He wasn't slowing down.

In a blind panic he flailed around, searching for something to hold onto, but he was falling too fast to see straight. The floor was only a few metres away now, and in the last second he held up his arms in front of his face, waiting for the inevitable pain.

It never came.

Instead, he opened one eye to find himself sprawled on a floor in a brightly lit room. He pushed himself up, noting that it looked strangely familiar. It wasn't until he fully stood up and shook his head that he realized why. It was his house. The very same one that he had gone to bed in last night, and still should be in. But this was lit with strands of Christmas lights, the smell of gingerbread filled the air, and he could hear children shouting.

Wait a second.

Before he could realize what was happening, three boys ran down the stairs, each clutching a toy airplane and screaming wildly. They ran about the living room, jumping on the sofa and darting over the coffee table, and then made their way to the kitchen, still screaming with joy. Then his mother rushed in, hastily pulled on a pair of oven mitts and pulled a sheet of gingerbread cookies out of the oven, all while navigating her way through the screaming children. "Boys!" she scolded. "What have I told you about playing in the kitchen? Especially while I'm cooking?"

Grant couldn't help but smile, the memory clear as crystal, and the words drummed into his head by his mother over the years. He mouthed out the words with his younger self and his brothers. "Playing near fire gets us all burned." His mother crouched down in front of his younger self. Her amber eyes twinkled, and a small smile grew across her face. She was a beautiful woman, and still was, twenty years later. She had just seen too much in her life, and he couldn't help but feel guilty.

"And what does that mean, sweetie?"

His five-year-old self bowed his head. "That if, if I get burned then you get sad. Because I'm hurt. And then because you're sad you're burned too." His mother leant down and placed a kiss on his tiny head.

"That's right. Now, who wants cookies?" The boys all shouted their consentment, and clamored for a spot on the cookies filled table. Their father joined them moments later, joking about the wrapping paper still left everywhere from opening their gifts. His mother watched, always smiling, always happy.

He smiled at the happy scene. His family was happy, intact, before everything fell apart, before he realized the monstrosity of his brother, before he abandoned them and joined SHIELD. The same family, minus his brother, was out on a cruise right now, having fun without him, while he was alone, stuck with only his memories. _What I wouldn't give to be there right now._


	23. Chapter 23: A Christmas Carol P3

This time, he woke up on a bed. It was still very dark, but he knew a bed when he felt it. It wasn't his, neither of the bus or at his parents' house that much was obvious. It was large and springy, like a hotel bed. He didn't have to wait long to see who's it was though. Ward pushed himself up just as a loud snore filled the room. He shot up in alarm, reaching for a gun that wasn't there. He peered closer, and couldn't help but chuckle at what he saw. She _would_ be a snorer.

She was curled up like a child, but in an oversize sweatshirt and loose braid. She appeared to be all alone, and lay in the middle of the bed, using most of the plethora of pillows. He didn't see any luggage but hers in the room, no sign of anyone else's things. He wasn't quite sure why he was dreaming of her, or where he got the image from. But he couldn't deny that even sleeping, she was beautiful.

There, he said it. Mysterious, hyperactive, impulsive Skye was beautiful. But that didn't mean anything. It was just her outward appearance. She was still a menace.

A menace who chose that moment to open her eyes and let out a small yawn. She stretched in the bed, before rubbing her eyes and pushing herself up. Skye gave a small smile before plopping back down on the pillows. "Alone on Christmas." She said it with such sadness, that his heart couldn't help but ache a little for her.

"Serves her right," he muttered to himself. "Maybe if she wasn't in the Rising Tide she—" But Skye wasn't done.

"What a success I've been. I thought having a team was supposed to mean something." She sighed and played with a loose thread on her sleeve. "Guess not." Skye rolled over and checked her phone, her face dropping at the sight. "No 'Merry Christmas' messages, no calls, no nothing." She clenched the phone for a minute before letting it drop into her blanket-covered lap. "Why do I always end up this way? Alone?"

Ward felt bad. Really bad. He had never pitied the girl. He had perhaps been jealous of her, her skills and her wit. The way she didn't seem to care about anyone, although he now knew that was wrong. He had been angry with her, yes. Multiple times. When they first caught her, when she was caught with Miles, and every single time they bickered. He had been disappointed, yes, when she betrayed them and let him down especially. But pity? No, it had never crossed his mind.

Then he began to feel something else: guilt. All this girl had ever wanted was a family. And all he had done was push her away, reject her at every turn, been harsher than necessary, and for what? Because he was scared of letting her in. He knew what that gnawing feeling that had been eating him up was. He knew it all too well from his many years. But this time, it was centered around his feelings for her. The ones he had desperately been trying to suppress. But it looked like they had both been burned.


	24. Chapter 24: A Christmas Carol P4

The world faded to black once more, and when he returned to consciousness, the scene was not much better from the darkness. He was in a cold alleyway somewhere. New York City, judging by the smell. But it was unpleasant and sour, and he was shivering uncontrollably.

He didn't know where he was. He had been in the city dozens of times, but he had no recollection of this place, no reason to be here. He had no connection to the alley way. So he decided to get out, frowning at what he saw.

It was Christmas morning, still. The streets were decorated, the people cheerful, the taxis still rushing past. But something seemed a bit off. The clothes were slightly different, the taxis a different model, and he was pretty sure there was a skyscraper that hadn't been there before.

He was staring up at the sky when they walked right through him. He gagged. It was a strange feeling, having someone pass right through you, like a ghost. He shivered. This is only a dream. I'm only stuck here for now, it will be all gone in the morning. It's only a dream. But his mantra didn't help matters, because the pair still had his attention.

Skye and Miles were together, and angry. Ward could see the man's temper rise, and Skye looked absolutely furious. They were obviously fighting about something, but he couldn't make out what they were saying, and they got further away every second. Ward gathered his remaining wits and ran through the people, grimacing at the feeling but pushing through still, until he caught up with the angry couple. They were pushing past people on the street, and starting to gather onlookers. But they didn't even seem to notice, too wrapped up in their argument to see what was going on.

"No, I will not let this go!" she shouted, prompting three different people to give her pointed looks. When you were getting attention in New York City, you knew you were making a scene.

Miles grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. "Yes, you will."

She pushed him away using her retained SHIELD training and turned around, ready to run in the other direction. But she didn't get the chance, because at that moment a yellow taxi was speeding, the driver eager to end his shift and be done for the day. And his rush, and Skye's lack of knowledge of her surrounding let to a collision. Whatever attention they had before, it was nothing compared to the group of people surrounding them now.

Ward held his head, frantically pacing back and forth. If this was the future, then he wasn't going to let this happen. He wasn't going to lose her, he couldn't let her go back to Miles. He couldn't let her be unhappy. And he certainly couldn't let her get hurt.

But the bleeding wasn't stopping, and her face was getting paler by the seconds. She was going to die. He knelt down beside her face, trying to reassure himself and her that everything would be okay, knowing full well what would happen if she didn't get help immediately.

He put his intangible hands on her head, praying to whatever deity was out there to let her live.

She died a few seconds later, and Ward let a single tear slip, for the first time in many, many years.


	25. Chapter 25: A Christmas Carol P5

This time, he woke up exactly where he should be. And yet, he knew he shouldn't be there at all. Yes, it was where he had gone to sleep the night before. But he shouldn't have been there in the first place. He should be with his family, on Christmas. And since his biological family was on a cruise, and he had no way to get there, he figured he should probably be with his new one.

So, he packed up his stuff and wrote a note to his family. He explained that he came home, regretted not going on the cruise, and his wish to spend the next Christmas with them if at all possible. Ward felt like a little kid again, still writing apology notes to the people he wronged. He chuckled. _If only life were that simple._

Time to make amends.

He called Coulson and asked where Skye was staying, ignoring the man's comments about 'finally' and 'about time'. He'd just have to remind him about Oregon sometime. But he got the address and city of the hotel, and marveled at his stroke of luck: she was only a half hour away. He had been prepared to drive hours to see her, but only having to deal with the Freeway made things a lot easier.

He was still in a rush though, and sped away without further ado.

Skye opened up the hotel door, looking almost exactly as he had dreamt her the night before. But he was going to choose to ignore the whole weird dream thing for a while. He didn't believe in magic, but the smile she gave upon seeing him almost was. It was quickly followed by a yawn, and she leant against the door frame. "What are you doing here?" Skye crossed her arms over her chest, both happy and suspicious about his appearance. He could've easily been there to tell her they had a mission, after all.

Nevertheless, Ward smiled back, genuinely and truly. "Merry Christmas, Skye." Then, Agent Grant Ward did something he should've done a long time ago. He seized the opportunity, and kissed her.

_The End. _

**Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this advent calendar, and who hasn't given me my well-earned crap about being a crappy updater. To all the reviewers and prompters, the rebloggers and likers. You all are fantabulous people, and I can't thank you enough!**

**Merry Christmas**

**Love, Em**


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